Indiana Jones and the Crown Jewels of Atlantis
by theoraclespake
Summary: Modern AU. A young Dr. Jones takes his first job as a professor at the University of Tennessee. He mistakenly incites a fling with a student and due to his own mismanagement, the relationship goes horribly wrong. Four years later, she has something he needs to get back.
1. Chapter 1

She sat in Market Square like a cat laying in a ray of sunlight filtered through a farmhouse window. The blue oxford shirt she wore to work every day was tied into a knot, exposing her pale stomach. She'd changed out of the khaki pants and into a white cotton skirt. Her left knee was pulled into her chest and her right leg stretched out on top of the short brick wall that surrounded one of the trees. Her sunglasses drooped down her nose and were faded with age. It was brutal day in mid July, kids splashed in the fountain as their mothers sipped margaritas at the cantina on the corner.

Lazy Daisy, they had called her in undergrad, because she moved with all the lethargy of a house cat. But it was a graceful lethargy, every bit as graceful as a predator slowly stalking prey. And that is how most boys felt about her, that she was the predator and they were the prey. She had cool eyes and a near permanent scowl. Many wondered what had jumped up and bit her in the ass and what kind of creature it had to be that her entire life would be marked by her bad attitude.

She dropped her left leg and let it dangle, slowly swinging it as she read. What she was reading Indiana could hardly tell. He lowered his newspaper, trying to decide how to approach her. He wasn't worried about her throwing a fist or slapping him like most women who he'd crossed. She was too calm and refined. He did know, from second hand experience, that her words could cut like knives and that her mouth sometimes dripped with venom. Physical fortitude, he had. He wasn't sure his mental strength could hold up.

 _Well, I've got to do it sooner of later._ He decided and he got up from his patio seat at the coffee shop and slowly approached her from the front. "Daisy." He greeted her. She lowered her book. It was Spenser. Her ice blue eyes narrowed into slits, her mouth, which you may have been able to confuse for a slight smirk earlier, dropped into an annoyed frown. She didn't speak and he held the silence, waiting to give her the opportunity. She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head, signaling that he was to speak or get lost.

He cleared his throat. "I'm in trouble." She inhaled slowly, closing her eyes to conceal the fact that she was rolling them, and closed her book in her lap. She exhaled, and signaled him to keep going. "I gave you a necklace when we were in Barcelona and, well, the long and the short of it is some treasure thieves are hunting for it and they got onto my trail, because I was the last person anyone can remember having it...and so, if you could give me the necklace, assuming you still have it, I can be well on my way to tricking them and throwing them off my trail. But its really important that I get the necklace because if they find out I don't have it, well, they will find out who does have it and they're really dangerous. Real...not great guys, not good guys, Daisy."

Daisy huffed. "And here I thought the worst thing Dr. Jones could do to me was drag me all across Europe and the Middle East just to abandon me, concussed and in a coma, at a Red Cross Hospital in Israel with no money and none of my belongings. But here you are, dropping in on my life to remind me that yes, demons exist, and no, time doesn't kill them."

"Okay, I know you're angry-"

"Dr. Jones." She put her book under her arm and stood up, he'd forgotten how tall she was. She was a near match for his height. "The necklace was the one thing I had when I arrived at JFK. I held onto to it for four years out of that single source of sentimentality. But four years came and went and the man who gave it to me didn't give me further reason to hold onto it. I sold it to a cut-rate Pawn Shop for the cost of a bottle of Barefoot Riesling."

She walked past him toward the street crossing. "Daisy, Daisy!" He ran after her. "You've got to tell me which Pawn Shop, I promise you, that necklace will bring bad fortune to anyone who has it."

"Broadway and East Jackson St, Dr. Jones." She called over her shoulder. She stopped on the other side of the street and turned to face him. "The clerk was named Harry." She fell into step with the bustling Saturday crowd and disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

August 2013:

Dr. Jones strode through the thick throng of students on the pedestrian bridge in the center of campus. He watched the crowd through his sunglasses, observing the cheerful greetings exchanged between friends who had spent months apart.

No one had explicitly told him how hot Tennessee was going to be in the summer. He should have assumed as much and he figured that he could handle the heat – it was the humidity that was getting to him. It was 9 in the morning and his shirt was already sticking to his lower back. Sweat dotted his lip. It was not a good look.

He opened the doors to the Humanities building and scanned the first row of class room doors for number 54. He was not particularly enthused about the fact that the department had stuck him with teaching a Western Civ course. The History department lost one of their lecturers to a family illness for the semester and had to borrow a qualified faculty member. The archaeologists stood in the break room about a month ago, and drew sticks. Indiana Jones was not a lucky man.

He opened the classroom door and dropped his briefcase onto the table at the front. There was no podium. A classroom full of twenty somethings stared back at him, silent. He took a seat on the edge of the table. "Well, if the university is going to insist that we abandon formality, I suppose I will oblige." His voice was tinged with obvious annoyance. "However, I will not require you to call me by my first name and we will be using the required text book." He removed his sport coat and started to roll up his sleeves as he scanned the faces in the classroom. "I'll call roll today so I can learn your names…no disrespect meant but I won't be memorizing nick names." He pulled the roster out of his brief case and began. "Henry Adamson…"

"Here."

"Hey Henry...Colby Ames."

"Here."

"Colby, good to meet you." He continued down the roster, finding it longer than he would have liked. Small classrooms were easier to teach, especially when History was concerned as it is easier to guide discussion.

"Daisy Pottsman..." A girl on the front row raised her hand. He immediately noticed her most obvious feature, long, slender, pale legs sticking out from under the desk. He tore his eyes away immediately and found no reprieve from his blatant attraction in her face. Hazel eyes that seemed far too critical of him peered back beneath soft waves of blonde hair that framed a soft face. A smile crept across her lips that was positively devious.

"Here."

"W-…welcome, Daisy. Uh…" He trailed off for an uncomfortably long time before he shook his head and continued.

"Alright, well. Welcome, this is Western Civ 201, it's a survey course. I'm Dr. Jones, I'm from the Archaeology department and am being borrowed to teach this course for the semester. Dr. Kite is, I am sure you all know, otherwise needed by his family."

He had stood up from the desk and was writing on the board. "My office hours are Tuesday and Thursday from two to four or by appointment. My email and phone number are on the syllabus and I really don't have that much to say to you today. I think I'm supposed to go over the syllabus but you're all college students so I trust you can read and I won't tell administration if you don't that we skipped it…" He scanned the syllabus for anything important enough to emphasize.

"Oh, yeah, my attendance policy. I'm not your baby sitter." He spread his hands out in front of himself. "You're paying for my time and if you want to waste your own dollar I truly do not give a shit. So, show up or don't, but I don't want your doctor's notes or excuses…" He elicited a few chuckles from the back row and heard a faint 'awesome.'

"Okay, well, see you all on Friday."

The students started to slowly pack up their notebooks. He slid the syllabus back into his briefcase as they started to leave. He sat back down in case anyone had questions or concerns. Daisy still sat in her desk but she wasn't looking at him. She had opened a book and seemed completely oblivious. The room cleared out and she didn't even move.

"I suppose it's fine if you stay here." He shrugged. She seemed to ignore him but was only finishing the paragraph. She earmarked the book and checked the time on her phone. She moved languidly as if responding to him was an imposition.

"We still have…45 minutes and 53 seconds." She put the phone down and locked eyes with him. "Shortest introduction I've ever heard. Sweet and to the point. I like the way you work but I suspect it is because you're not too happy to be teaching a freshman course." Her eyes narrowed and the corner of her mouth turned up.

He chuckled. "Not even a little bit...don't be offended though, it's the nature of the cours-"

"Oh, I'm not offended. I'm not a freshman. I'm equally as upset that I have to take the course…but maybe it won't be so bad…"

Her eyes seemed to be writing checks that he should not, under any circumstances, in any way, at any time…cash…

"I'll see you Friday, Daisy." He stood up from the table and walked toward the door.

"Have a nice day…" She said half-heartedly, already reading again.


	3. Chapter 3

October, 2013

Daisy sat in Dr. Jones' office. It was a drafty room beneath the football stadium where the archaeology department shared office space with the forensic science department. Her legs were crossed and covered in opaque black tights. The skirt of her dress rode up to where it barely reached her middle thigh.

It was five o clock on Thursday. They had been talking since three. The location of his office and the fact that most of his students were freshmen basically ensured that no one came to his office hours. If a freshman did come, it was a doe-eyed girl stuttering through her questions and trying to look demure. He'd been dealing with the crushing girls since he was a TA at Columbia. Daisy came every week and she clearly wanted him but she wasn't afraid of him, either. It was refreshing.

It was dangerous.

She peered behind him, out of the window that he was lucky enough to have. The trees had turned yellow and gold and red and were being plucked from their trees as the cold autumn winds blew. She smiled idly.

"Well, we don't have classes tomorrow and it _is_ after five in the afternoon…would you like a drink?" He had rolled his chair over to a filing cabinet and produced a bottle of whisky. It was unlabeled.

Daisy grinned. "Is it considered a drink if there's no ice, in my book that's called a shot."

He shrugged. "Would you like a shot?"

"I'd love a shot." He handed her a glass that was filled almost to the brim. "Dr. Jones, I know you aren't from around here and I am unfamiliar with the Midwest but this is quite a bit more than a shot."

"Cheers," He knocked his back, refusing to justify the size of his pour. Daisy laughed. The only time he saw the girl smile was when she was in his office. He watched her in class and would occasionally spot her around campus and she always had the look of a pissed off housecat. She followed his lead and winced as the liquor made its way down. She coughed.

"Not a drinker?" He asked, taking the shot glass back.

"No…not really." She held back more coughs, clutching her chest and trying to shake the revulsion.

"So what are you plans for the long weekend?" He put his feet up on his desk and folded his hands on his stomach.

Her eyes wandered. "Work…read…rinse, repeat."

"Those are your plans every weekend, don't you ever have any fun, Pottsman?"

"I have my vices." She grinned.

"Dime store porn novels do not count."

Her eyes narrowed and she snarled comically. "Ye of little faith, Dr. Jones! If I must prove myself, every so often I take a Sunday off and I hike in the mountains, off trail. I've found centuries old cemeteries, abandoned cabins, stone churches, even a bag of weed or two. When I'm done, I get cleaned up and I go dancing downtown."

"Where do you go?"

"It depends. Sometimes I go line dancing. Sometimes I go waltz with the gentlemen at The Tennesseean."

"So you've been dancing for a while?"

"Since I was a child."

Indy's wheels began to turn and he realized that he had not eaten since the morning. The whiskey was going straight to his head. He was about to make a mistake.

"Well, if you aren't working tonight, why don't you show me one of your usual places, I can't seem to find a good time in this town." He put the bottle of whiskey back into the filing cabinet and locked it.

Daisy was smiling but in that unsettling way where the receiver feels a little bit like they're about to be devoured.

"I could show you a place or two."

He grabbed his jacket and ushered her out the door.

The two of them stood on the side of the dancefloor of a rather large bar east of the city. The lights were dim, the tables were covered in spilled liquor. The place was a dive but the acoustics were wonderful and the energy was high. Patrons dressed in blue jeans and flannel danced close to each other. It was obviously a country bar and Indy felt far too overdressed but Daisy seemed to feel right at home in her professional clothes. She'd given a presentation in another class that day.

She grabbed his hand with an eagerness he couldn't claim surprised him and pulled him into the throng of dancing bodies. She placed her free hand on his shoulder and he grabbed her waist. She took the lead, swaying her hips and closing any sort of distance between them. She lead him in a dance that seemed to be a loose form of salsa mixed with the typical types of maneuvers young people performed in the absence of a chaperone. He got the hang of the beat and her body and stole the lead.

Their dance grew heated and Indy could feel the good sense of a more sober brain telling him he was going to regret those three other drinks and whatever was about to happen next. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure how they ended up in the bathroom with the door locked but Daisy was sitting on the countertop with him standing between her legs. He had his hands wrapped in her hair and his tongue deep inside her mouth. She playfully bit the tip of it as he would pull back, inviting it back in. She skillfully unbuttoned his shirt and slid her hands up the white cotton tshirt beneath it. He slid a hand under her knee and lifter her leg so he could stand just that fraction of an inch closer. She reached behind her back and fumbled with the zipper of her dress whimpering in frustration when it wouldn't budge.

Indy yanked her down from the countertop and spun her around so hard she stumbled slightly. He unzipped the dress and slid it off her. It fell in a pool at her feet. She turned around and worked on him with a hungry mouth, sucking his neck and nicking his collarbone. He lifted her back onto the counter and removed her bra, tossing it into the sink. His mouth found her nipples and she groaned, grasping at his belt.

"Not here." He mumbled, realizing that he wasn't ending tonight without fucking this girl but it sure as hell was not going to be in this trash heap of a bathroom.


End file.
